He has gone down to the shop in the atrium to buy something ridiculous, which is exactly what he would do, and he has taken the bag with him because he is the sort of man who will not leave a bag in a room with an unconscious woman in it.

He has been moved.

They moved me out of recovery into this room while I was out, and nobody has told him which room, and he is standing at a desk somewhere on the second floor explaining himself to somebody with a clipboard, getting steadily more polite and more frightening in the way he gets.

He is on the telephone to his mother, because she said to call the second anything happened, and he has stepped outside because you cannot use a telephone in here, and she has got him talking.

He has gone to the car for the charger, because the long charger that never went in the bag until he put it in the side pocket at half past five this morning has now, in some version of events, not actually gone in.